Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico · published 1573 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses typicality 0.81 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
Now comes Apollo's oracle of pass, That I in Athens town should end my days: And since thou dost, O daughter mine, desire In this exile to be my woeful mate, Lend me thy hand, and let us go together. Lo, here all priest my dear beloved father, A feeble guide, and eke a simple scout, To pass the perils in a doubtful way. Unto the wretched, be a wretched guide. In this all only equal to my father. And where shall I set forth my trembling feet? O reach me yet some surer staff, to stay My staggering pace amid these ways unknown. Here father here, and here set forth your feet. Now can I blame none other for my harms But secret spite of foredecreed fate, Thou art the cause, the crooked, old and blind, I am exiled far from my country soil, And suffer dole that I might not endure. " O father, father, justice lies on sleep, Ne doth regard the wrongs of wretchedness, " Ne princes swelling pride it doth redress. O careful caitiff, how am I now changed From that I was? I am that Oedipus, That whilom had triumphant victory, And was both dread and honoured eke in Thebes: But now (so pleaseth you my froward stars) Down headlong hurled in depth of misery, So that remains of Oedipus no more As now in me, but even the naked name, And lo, this image, that resembles more Shadows of death, than shape of Oedipus. O father, now forget the pleasant days And happy life that you did whilom lead, The muse whereof redoubleth but your grief: Sustain the smart of these your present pains With patience, that best may you preserve. Lo where I come, to live and die with you, Not (as sometimes) the daughter of a king, But as an abject now in poverty, That you, by presence of such faithful guide, May better bear the wrack of misery. O only comfort of my cruel hap. Your daughter's pity is but due to you: Would God I might as well engrave the corpse Of my dear Pollinice, but I ne may, And that I can not, doubleth all my dole. This thy desire, that is both good and just, Impart to some that be thy trusty friends, Who moved with pity, may procure the same. " Believe me father, when dame fortune frowns, Be few that find trusty companions. And of those few, yet one of those am I: Wherefore, go we now daughter, lead the way Into the stony rocks and highest hills, Where fewest tracks our steppings may be spied. " Who once hath sit in chair of dignity, May shame to show himself in misery. From thee, O country, am I forced to part, Despoiled thus in flower of my youth, And yet I leave within mine enemies rule Ismene my infortunate sister.
seed 43: T29 · seed 44: T27 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nowe commes Apollos oracle of passe, That I in Athens towne should end my dayes: And since thou doest, O daughter myne, desire In this exile to be my wofull mate, Lende mée thy hande, and let vs goe togither. Loe, here all prest my deare beloued father, A féeble guyde, and eke a simple skowte, To passe the perills in a doubtfull waye. Unto the wretched, be a wretched guyde. In this all onely equall to my father. And where shall I sette foorth my trembling féete? O reache mée yet some surer staffe, to staye My staggryng pace amidde these wayes vnknowne. Here father here, and here set forth your féete. Nowe can I blame none other for my harmes But secrete spight of foredecréed fate, Thou arte the cause, the crooked, olde and blynde, I am exilde farre from my countrey soyle, And suffer dole that I myghte not endure. "O father, father, Iustice lyes on sléepe, "Ne doth regarde the wrongs of wretchednesse, "Ne princes swelling pryde it doth redresse. O carefull caytife, howe am I nowe chang'd From that I was? I am that Oedipus, That whylome had triumphant victorie, And was bothe dread and honored eke in Thebes: But nowe (so pleaseth you my frowarde starres) Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myserie, So that remaynes of Oedipus no more As nowe in mée, but euen the naked name, And lo, this image, that resembles more Shadowes of death, than shape of Oedipus. O father, nowe forgette the pleasaunt dayes And happie lyfe that you did whylom leade, The muse whereof redoubleth but your griefe: Susteyne the smarte of these your present paynes With pacience, that best may you preserue. Lo where I come, to liue and die with you, Not (as sometymes) the daughter of a king, But as an abiect nowe in pouertie, That you, by presence of suche faithfull guide, May better beare the wracke of miserie. O onely comforte of my cruell happe. Your daughters pitie is but due to you: Woulde God I might as well ingraue the corps Of my deare Pollinice, but I ne maye, And that I can not, doubleth all my dole. This thy desire, that is both good and iuste, Imparte to some that be thy trustie frendes, Who moude with pitie, maye procure the same. "Beléeue me father, when dame fortune frownes, "Be fewe that fynde trustie companions. And of those fewe, yet one of those am I: Wherefore, goe we nowe daughter, leade the waye Into the stonie rockes and highest hilles, Where fewest trackes our steppings may be spyde. "Who once hath sit in chaire of dignitie, "May shame to shewe him selfe in miserie. From thée, O countrey, am I forst to parte, Despoyled thus in floure of my youth, And yet I leaue within mine enimies rule Ismene my infortunate sister.